Haunted
by ice shredder
Summary: Guts only felt alive when he bathed in his enemies blood. It made sense. He was the son of a corpse after all. Heavily implied Guts/Casca. TRIGGER WARNINGS INSIDE. T for safety. RxR. Enjoy!


**Title: Haunted**

 **Author: ice shredder**

 **Fandom: Berserk**

 **Disclaimer: not mine, just borrowing.**

 **Warnings/Spoilers: mentions of gore, depression, internal anguish, blood, etc. may cause trigger warnings. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Gut's POV from various scenes in the manga, so beware of spoilers.**

 **Summary: Guts only felt alive when he bathed in his enemies blood. It made sense. He was the son of a corpse after all.**

He should've seen Griffith's betrayal coming. The signs were there...and yet he turned a blind eye when he should've been asking questions. Maybe if he had, his friends would still be alive and Casca's sanity would be intact and his body would be whole and their baby would've been normal...

Guts leaned against the rough bark of a sheltering tree, Dragonslayer tucked into his side, solid steel replacing the soft, warm body of the woman he loved more than his own life. Not for the first time since the Eclipse and the horrors he bore witness to, he wondered if leaving the Band of the Hawk had been the right decision.

Casca's pregnancy came as no surprise to the giant swordsman but the deformed fetus she gave birth to on that hill further fueled his hatred against his former best friend. Not only did he reduce his woman to a hollow shell of her former self, he had corrupted their seed. Thinking about it now sent spurts of rage through his system.

 _Why didn't I pay more attention?_ He thought, keeping his remaining eye focused on the fading light. It would be dark within the hour and he needed to be ready to fight the horde of demons and restless spirits that haunted his every step since that unspeakable night. His body begged for rest, for relief against the relentless onslaught of evil. Some day he needed to return to Godo's forge and retrieve Casca. He hated to expose his vulnerable lover to the darkness outside that hidden grotto he left her in, under the watchful eye of the blacksmith and his daughter Erica and Rickert the last surviving member of his old group.

But as Griffith's influence grew, he couldn't live with himself if something bad happened and she died because he wasn't there to protect her. He refused to give that bastard the satisfaction of snuffing out the only speck of light in his blood-soaked excuse of a life and shattering what little self control he had left.

 _Griffith._ Guts bared his teeth at the name of his hated foe, his Berseker armour creaking as he gripped his sword a little closer to his massive frame. _Always so ambitious. Always needing to be the center of attention. Like everyone else around you was pointless. Nothing worth a second look._

He remembered all too clearly the feeling of disbelief at the white haired man handing him his first real defeat. The meeting that would tragically change his life. _Ya always kept saying you couldn't bear living like anything but a ruler. That's when I should've started peering a little closer at your words. But l was desperate to belong somewhere and I didn't pay any heed to the warning signs. Hell, even the Skull Knight warned me the Hawks were doomed. Maybe the battle for Doldrey was just another campaign to end the Hundred Year War. But to you, it was a different story altogether. All our battles were practice runs. Everyone we met was a building block in your network. You were perfecting your role, the whole time. Ya never lost sight of your dream. Even the lives of your comrades meant nothing._

 _Power's yer whole world. But she's a greedy mistress. Always craving more. Nothing's ever enough to satisfy her insatiable appetite._ The leaves rustled in the twilight breeze, ruffling his short, spiky hair but the big man didn't stir, lost in his vengeful thoughts. _But every now and then though, I could see through the act. No one was worthy enough to be your equal. Not even me. Yeah. About THAT much at least...it was obvious you were a liar._

He expelled a heavy breath. When his thoughts got too grim and dark they drifted over to Casca. Guts recalled how beautiful and ladylike she looked in that ball gown at Doldrey Castle. How the glittering lights from the crystal chandeliers reflected off her brown eyes as he spun her around the floor, the complete trust in them toward him had made his breath catch, and the way he fell a little harder for her, the only woman he would ever love.

The tender, careful way he made love to her by a breathtaking waterfall after saving the woman from committing suicide returned to stab him in the heart. A sharp, burning pain deep in his chest elicited a choked groan from Guts's mouth as he remembered how he tried to make her first time as painless as he could. Up till then, he'd really never thought about how _big_ he truly was until he made love to Casca. Never before had he been made acutely aware of his sheer size, that if he wasn't careful he would've crushed the slim woman under his massive weight.

She had teared up, but didn't utter a sound of distress as he breached her womanhood. Holding her sleeping form in his arms, utterly amazed at the courage it took her to give her precious virginity to _him_ of all people. By doing so she'd declared her independence from her idol Griffith and bound herself irrevocably to him forever.

An act that didn't sit well with the White Hawk.

Not long after their magical experience of overcoming their combined fears of intimacy and touch things literally went to hell. Griffith never forgave him for leaving and due to a misunderstanding chose to invoke Eclipse and his Crimson Behelt, slaughtering his friends and raping his pregnant lover right in front of him while the Apostles forced him to watch.

In response he stowed Casca away at Godo's cave, replaced his flesh with a prosthetic that was a mechanical marvel, and taking Dragonslayer proceeded to kill every evil spirit and Apostle he met to bloody ribbons that dared to cross his path. Every demon he killed his mighy blade absorbed their blood, cursing it so it became even _more_ effective at destroying Apostles and the God's Hand when they bothered to show themselves.

Guts slowly stood, joints creaking and went to throw a pile of logs onto the fire he'd built at the edge of a wooded glen. When the nightly barrage of evil came he made sure to have extra light to supplement the moon. Which was thankfully full. Living in the Intersice was no picnic. As a deadly side effect to surviving the Eclipse ritual, the Brand of Sacrifice burned into the right side of his neck would burn or bleed signaling the dead's approach. _As soon as this battle's over I'm going to get Casca. I'm the only one who can protect her._

He prayed at some point her sanity could be restored. That was another reason to take her on the road. He needed her mind whole and sound. Needed to feel her soft mocha skin beneath his fingers again. Needed to taste her lips without reservation and hear her speak clearly. Anything except the childlike noises he heard now. Needed to see her eyes look on him with love and trust and dispel every trace of that cursed anger and distrust along with the ability to remember him.

Guts saw the red glow of dozens of demonic eyes materialize near his campsite, staying away from his flame. He knew they were waiting for full dark to attack. The growls of the evil dead made his ever present bloodlust rise. Ready to claim his body should he need it. But then again, he was never really sane to begin with anyway. Guts only felt alive when he bathed in his enemies blood. It didn't matter what or who. The crimson liquid warmed his near frozen heart, gave him pleasure like no other. It only made sense. He _was_ the son of a corpse after all. So these endless fights weren't any different than the ones he had yet to face.

He just knew, deep down Griffith was going to pay for his sins against Casca, himself and their dead friends. That traitor didn't deserve to sit like a king and fufill his dream. Not on the bones and blood of his former comrades in arms, his lover's rape and her shattered mind, and sure as hell _not_ over his maimed body.

The sea of glowing eyes moved closer to his position. He drew his great sword, pointing the broad tip towards the ravenous dead as he came to a decision.

After he killed everything that moved on the astral plane tonight, he'd pack his things and go back for Casca. He wouldn't feel right until she was by his side where he could protect her at all times. And she would keep him grounded. Remind him of the cause he was fighting.

His eye narrowed as his teeth bared in a feral grin. Eager for the ghostly throng to add their blood so Dragonslayer could grow even stronger until the day he saw Griffith face to face, so that he could enjoy torturing that monster before delivering the mortal blow.

If Casca was restored, he might give that honor to her. After all, _she_ deserved recompense for the damages that demon inflicted on her without mercy.

It was only fitting that Griffith should meet his demise by a _woman._

 **-end**

 **Hope y'all enjoyed! I really hope Casca gets to strike Griffith down. Of course Guts won't let her do it unless he's there with her. Grif's too strong for her to handle on her own. I really want those two to get a happy ending. For real. If anyone deserves one it's them.**

 **Reviews are appreciated. :)**


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